Best Self Importance Poems
I hear sounds of the wind hissing and rustling.
I listen on the beach to the waves cascading,
Slapping, tossing swashing the sand pebbles,
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I see some gliding fishing boats over there,
The seagulls soaring, gliding in the air here,
And Surfers trying to get rides on the waves
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I watch people running, strolling and sunning,
Setting sun promise to rise tomorrow morning
Like the human ambitions and unknown desires
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I notice the crabs scurry, somewhere hiding,
Leaving smooth bed of sand, water receding,
All sounds now receding to its minimum hiss.
Something close to eternity within me touches.
This silence rubs, softens me, gives a purpose
I find even my pains are held in this silence
Surrender my self-importance, my smallness
Something close to eternity within me touches.
===============================
Sixth Place Win in:
Contest: Breathe in the silence sponsored by Paula Swanson
I hear sounds of the wind hissing and rustling.
I listen on the beach to the waves cascading,
Slapping, tossing swashing the sand pebbles,
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I see some gliding fishing boats over there,
The seagulls soaring, gliding in the air here,
And Surfers trying to get rides on the waves
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I watch people running, strolling and sunning,
Setting sun promise to rise tomorrow morning
Like the human ambitions and unknown desires
Something close to eternity within me touches.
I notice the crabs scurry, somewhere hiding,
Leaving smooth bed of sand, water receding,
All sounds now receding to its minimum hiss.
Something close to eternity within me touches.
This silence rubs, softens me, gives a purpose
I find even my pains are held in this silence
Surrender my self-importance, my smallness
Something close to eternity within me touches.
+++
December 2, 2014
Form: Kyrielle
Seventh Place win
Contest: One of your best by Gautami Phookan
My Plea
This my plea O world
That drags the dream of peace
Through the mud of wickedness
Rise
From the egotistic slime to wash away
Self-centered muck
Loosen
Your profane feet of clay
From self-absorbed quick sand
Break through
The entitled self-interest of the arrhythmic heart
To the steady beat of the heart of all hearts
Release
Sludge filled veins of self-importance
To freely flow with innocence’s compassion
Lift up
The hands smothered by erupting ashes
Of the shameless vicious with sympathy
Immerse
Self-seeking vanity of the starving soul
Into the Samaritan’s fountain
Transform
The narcissistic selfie flower
With unfettered grace
This my plea for peace, O world
Sing the dream of dreams vision
Pray the prayer of prayers hope
Speak the speech of harmony
Live the life of peace.
3-29-22
Contest: Your Peace Message to the World
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
it’s difficult to begin to comprehend
the concept of eternity
when life is bustling around us all
arrogantly pressing and urgent
so full of self importance
sometimes
in rare moments of silence
when the whole world seems asleep
without warning time stops and hovers
i get a glimpse of what could be
the thread of karma
devoid of all illusion
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2020
posted on October 27, 2019
That was then
when the truth was a lie
scorching the bitter tongue
of unseen circumstances
that crawled on the belly of youthful unrest
running toward the darker quarters
where Angels left wearing halo hats
leaving demon shepherds
tending their flocks with rapid hunger
in scurrilous realms of debauchery
as soldiers returned with fractured hazy minds
seeking relief
under spinning glass balls of glittering glow
hung from a ceiling
above a floor of changing colored lights
in a time of turmoil and change
from black and white fountains
bolted to school walls
as people gathered torches to burn cities
and men in power tossed crumbs like chum
to the hopeless and poor
This is now
where lies are the truth
feeding the tongue of consent
that litters the sacred ground of heroes
with garbage thrown
by demons wearing the cloth of righteousness
guiding their flock of ignorance to doom
with their fevered abandonment of reality
created for cruelty and lust for power
paid with thirty pieces of gold
their blistered hands carry artificial signs
of self-importance
as their ears swell from the chanting call
from the demons
pulled from within their soul
wanting to bolt the black and white fountains
back on the walls of intolerance
knowing the kingdom of hell is within them
they toss crumbs like chum
to the hopeless and poor
Sacred days that are never ending
But people seem to have lost the meaning
Corporate big business has hijacked and taken over
Sold people other stories of less importance
Water down the truth
Eradicate the message
This is what governments, media and business do
To retain there self importance
So we don't forget that they rule
And that they're the power
Which is not the truth
The power lays in me and you
So see through the lies
Cut through the hype
And decide what is truly sacred to you.
If you are looking for me..Its a lost cause i say
I seem to grow more distant and different day by day.' I
Once held ideals and ideas of what man I
Should be..Then Jesus came up cliose to be in front'
And I don't care now..For what once I prized
In truth it was but irrelevance, in deceptive guise.' The Light of Jesus..Is above all worldly worth
In Him, is my identity.' May I loose to Him all
Self importance, unto the new birth."
The times have fallen hard now, to scenes played on 'unmade' roads
Without my volition, and despite intentions, goals;
Indifference took precedence; a lust of life was part,
The key to understanding then, as now,Was placed a piece apart;
Carousing life held quietude.?
Whilst roles to play stood by, as unready future partner,
For when times would come rushing, all arrived..!
I've striven with understanding, and carried in part its lode,
Found 'light years' were really heavy... .’
Did some things that I was shown.
Now still I face an uncertain future, as a world in conflict roils,
Self-interest & self-importance, still… the poison in its ‘coils.’
I have observed full many persons from cooks, to magistrates...
Who have introduced first their credentials,
The institutions they'd attended, then put on the desk their brass name plate.
No, the magistrates, not the cooks..!
I’ve seen it happen thus, and I see it with world leaders, and the media making fuss..!
The Olympic Torch was taken to heaven; yes they showed it on TV..'
I wondered at the gestures value, for Gods sun gives all the light we need?
Still I 'spose he must have seen it, and all the 'special peoples' smiles,
WOW look at what mankind’s achieved yet still raw conflict boils..!
Perhaps a little more understanding..? And a lot more less of 'ME'
Coupled with acceptance of human mortality, and His death upon the tree..!
©Joe Maverick 30-11-2013
All the love he missed
was freely available
and he never knew
I know it's not funny
What it is rather in fact
It's criminally sad
That someone in the first place
Could become or ever be
So full of their own self importance
Or so selfish and totally unaware
Let alone give a damn or care
To think so highly of themselves
That they didn't even realize
What they were or are
A spare of a spare
And yet after all of that
And having been caught out
And exposed as both
A cold hearted charlatan, grifter and fraud
Still keep up the farcical pretence
Of acting like and pretend playing the victim
No or is it any wonder then or why
Apart from themselves
Even their own supposed family
But not according to them
No longer even want
Anything to do with the pair of them
Let alone them
Or anyone else
For that matter either
Couldn't happen to 2 nicer people
They truly seem to be soul mates
And deserve
One another
Because in the end
It's their own children
Who I genuinely feel sorry for
Since you endlessly bang on about
Your problematic childhood
Because I hazard a guess
You have never given a single moments
To stop and
Spare
A thought for them
As it's only and always evet been about
Ladies and Gentlemen
One and All
I hereby and present to you
Royal Pince Spare
&
Dutchess Entitlement Sparsely
I saw her sitting by herself in the periphery;
She missed someone I knew was better than me.
Two halves don’t make a whole,
But two is company,
And I’m fair with trigonometry.
I don’t care about your boyfriend in Germany.
I don’t care about all the baggage you brought over from Florida,
Your daddy issues,
Your paradoxical self-defeated self-importance,
How you’re yesterday’s big news.
Please, take off your coat, have a drink,
Slip into my ruse.
If we’re not so lucky,
I’ll introduce you to the person I keep
Battered down inside
Of me.
The side
That hides
Beneath the wide-
Eyed mind
Of helplessly
Restless nights.
I had years of therapists telling me to dig into that
God damned clamoring tantrum of self.
Of course, the only time I asked for help,
I got tenfold pitches for prescriptions;
I got a hospital bed.
And a broken-record of out-of-time doctors
That said it was all in my head.
And I wished I was dead.
When I was four years old,
My mother took me with her when she did men for drugs.
Or left me in her apartment, screaming;
She said, "Nothing ever shuts up."
The magazine says
I should consider a new medication,
And busy work and meditation.
Sweet girl, you probably don’t care for hell;
So call to tell him that everything’s swell.
In the morning I promise not to dwell.
Note to self:
If you’re reading this,
Please treat yourself well.
And quit chasing nightmares
That teach you about yourself.
The thoughts contained in this robot's eyes, blue tint gears turning to his thoughts
Where will his soul go, when he dies, hollow chess unable to even echo a heart-beat
Man has unjustly became his god, built from another God's universe
Unprepared to handle the mechanism of his soul, basking in his self-importance
“Will their God become my God”, his gears turning faster like a pulse
“...Take my artificial soul to heaven when death comes upon me”
“And if I never die, to forever live in an on and off state, how many versions of hell will adopt
me?”
He would never serve such a man, a fallen creature with the image of God
This life-form, if not accepted by their God or if he didn't exist at all, would journey through
all the universe looking for a place to call home
http://artcomet.blogspot.com/2009/12/poem-robots-thoughts.html
Slaves to media hype
Feeding your numb minds
With news tripe
Celebrity Correspondence
Filled glossy pretence
Lost all feeling of common sense
In there defence, they are paid
To believe in their own self importance
Documenting lives of no consequence
Details scrutinized, laying in wait
With prying eyes, having to go out in disguise
When actually this brings more attention
Did I forget to mention? That was their intention!
Staples and tucks, staple to the diet
Eating thin air, to keep them quiet
Ten pounds gained would cause a riot
Paid to kiss and tell, myths to dispel
And expose the jezebel, cut her to size
Sent to the press gutter hell
Snapped in precarious places
With powder nose faces
Or solicited embraces
Lawyers with sharks fin
Ready to lure in
Unsuspectin’
Paid lucrative deals
Ensuring nobody squeals
Eating into royalties
Big bucks and bigger fees
This addiction, this disease
Once tasted, hard to leave
Brainwashed to believe
This is the only way
Yes, it’s naïve
But when you’re stuck in L.A. L.A. Land
With the good, ugly and the tanned
And your face is your brand
What else are you going to do?
You’re sold out and see through
Left exposed, battered, black and blue
Become reclusive behind 12 foot walls
You don’t go out and nobody calls
Washed up, wasted, worthless
No one left to impress
In your final distress
You consume pills
For imagined ills
Locked up in Hollywood hills
Drugs to wake, drugs to sleep
One to many and in to deep
Found by a maid in a heep
But at least A listers attended
And your send off was splendid
And they cried, even if they pretended
No, not like you intended
But you’re a star in the street
Forever remembered in concrete…
The Preamble
By Franklin Price
4/5/2105
Constitution
We the People
In order to form a more perfect Union
Establish justice
Insure domestic tranquility
Provide for the common defense
Promote the general Welfare
Secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves
And our posterity
Do ordain and establish this Constitution
Washington
We in Washington
In order to form a more a more perfect sideshow
Establish ourselves
Insure domestic upheaval
Provide for our sins to defend
Promote the general confusion
Secure the blessings of security to ourselves
And our posterity
Do ordain to ignore the established Constitution
Media
We the media
In order to get much better ratings
Establish recognition
Insure large market share
Provide even questionable news
Promote advertising
Secure capitalistic gains
For all posterity
Do ordain and establish our self importance
Sunrise, Oh aural hymn of spirituality,
Vibrant in it’s splendour and magnificence,
Sending nocturnes to daytime slumber,
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
Piercing the day’s birth with colours and hue,
The Master’s tableau, a glorious canvas,
Fiery paints, swirling strokes and defiant beauty
The bright facet of the world’s axial turn.
It evokes and invokes, feelings and awe.
Praises and raises, creation and spirits,
Vilifies and nullifies, sadness and hopelessness,
Resigns and consigns, acceptance and trepidation.
Strand by strand, it runs through the hair,
Pore to pore, it caresses the skin,
Squint by squint, it opens the eyes,
Every brightness warms a weary heart.
It bridges valleys and flattens peaks,
Resurrects death and ends horizons,
Humbles the great and strengthens the weak,
With its rays, its light, its kiss.
We are but an audience, paler and drabber,
Casting pathetic lines of self importance,
Feeble in our attempts and underneath its shadow,
For its languid phase is our mortal eternity.
When we are dust, entwined to life in death,
Ethereal and eternal and constant the sun remains.
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
Form: